


Day 3

by gbMS



Series: Days [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pete's World, Pete's World Torchwood, Still Tinkering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gbMS/pseuds/gbMS
Summary: Day 3 of Tentoo's assimilation into Pete's World





	1. Awake

He opened his eyes to light again. Couldn't blame Mickey for a lack of window treatments, those things had likely been created by a sadistic masochist or masochistic sadist or just a moldy hermit who loved dust. He blinked a few times, silently lamenting the human tendency towards undecorated ceilings before truly taking notice of the warmth and weight on his waist. He looked to his left at a sleeping face was just a little lower than his now awake one. She had turned to face him in her sleep, Rose curled on her side close to his own supine form. It vaguely registered that this was the third night in a row waking up with Rose. The hotel the first night, the sofa after she introduced him to her house the second, and now, what was ostensibly his new bed.

It was new. Unexpected, really. Four days ago he would have never gotten a flat. Of course, four days ago he was convinced Rose Tyler was locked away from him forever. And now she was asleep beside him for the third time in three days. In his _home_.

Contact between the two, save a few surprise kisses, had been carefully metered. Kisses were more often chaste, hugs didn't linger, hands were held. It felt familiar but somehow unnatural, like an invisible wall had been built, and it was awkward having not built it himself. It was in her sleep that the barrier didn't seem to exist, evidenced by her arm laying around him as if having done it every day for years. She willingly or subconsciously lowered her defenses and relaxed into him, feeling more like the old Rose.

Her reaction hadn't been unlike her last one when he changed: The man she trusted seemingly disappearing while leaving her with another. For that one he'd been blissfully asleep for most of the inevitably hard transition, but for this one he’d been happily awake to soak in her presence. Though, in the double edge sword fashion that he'd gotten so used to, he was awake to see the pain carefully hidden in her eyes while she did what she could to help him.

She'd aided him more physically last time. A mere 20 year old human taking care of what was ostensibly a different man than who she knew, standing up for the whole human race, and still choosing _him_. And now she was doing it all over again, a little older, a lot wiser—well, maybe not _wiser_ if she was still choosing him—but still very _Rose_.

He studied her sleeping face. He remembered the smiles vividly, how could he not? That shine in her eyes and small bit of tongue peeking out of her teeth when she felt very cheeky or particularly proud. The wide, toothy smile of just a few days ago as they ran down an abandoned street. He remembered the sad face as they she stood in that beach, tears falling down her face. Open-mouthed laughs that tilted her head or lips crushed together when she was trying not to laugh. Resignation when he was about to do something incredibly stupid or lifesaving… which were not mutually exclusive. Very different from the looks of questioning or her attempts to seem not upset or confused or worried in the last few days. Her brow furrowing as imperceptibly as possible, her eyes impassible as she seemed to watch everything as she guarded her emotions, her smiles rarely lighting her entire face as they once had.

Now he would remember her sleeping, relaxed face. First this face saw, the last face he wanted to see. Ever. With any face. Though, he supposed only having one face narrowed those possibilities down a bit.

He carefully moved her hair from her sleeping face to behind her ear. Years of living behind his own wall having trained him to not touch her and disturb her from her rest. ‘Hands off the blonde' he’d said to Jack, parroting his own self-imposed rule. Jack needed a rule, he certainly hadn't had any of his own. His protectiveness in that body wasn’t about to let her get hurt by anyone, she was _his_ responsibility, _his_ companion, he knew she couldn’t be his Rose, and after the Adam debacle he certainly wasn’t about to allow her to be _Jack’s_.

Now the blonde in question was decidedly hands-on, at least in her sleep. He has never given her a rule about him, he couldn't bring himself to ever tell her to stop interacting with him when he relished it so much. He was still relishing it, really, and couldn’t imagine not relishing it. ‘Hands off the Blonde' was definitely not a rule he wanted anymore. She was so good at telling what others were feeling, did it really need saying?

Oh, never using _that_ phrase again. 

Or ‘Hands off the blonde.’

At least not to himself. Everyone else can have hands off the blonde.

He closed his eyes and turned to face her, placing his arm on her slumbering body. Warm, soft, eerily right… he briefly wondered how he had fought it for so long. Rose moved at the weight, moving slightly toward him making his arm shift around her. Her chest pressed against his, making her warmth ever more felt, the scent of her hair stronger as she snuggled into him like he was a bony pillow.

Breathing in that scent, he direly wanted to kiss her again. It was one of his favorite smells. He could tell the heavy chemical content and semi-natural extracts were pleasant, but it was the unmistakable scent of Rose that permeated his brain via his nostrils.

A soft hum escaped her throat.

“’Just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I'm sleeping’” came a soft voice, warm arm shifting and conforming a bit more to the shape his torso. He opened his eyes again, looking at the still relaxed closed eyed face of Rose, now softly smirking.

“Oh, using my words against me now?”

“Little bit.”

“We're making a habit of this.” He said a bit gruffly. Her eyes finally opened, her body barely perceptibly tensing just enough to be ready remove her yet unmoving arm at a moment's notice. She pulled her head back a bit.

“Complaining or observing?”

“Commemorating,” was his only answer, closing his eyes again and re-adjusting himself for comfort. Her arm instantly relaxed back around him.

Her voice was laced with amusement, “Still not used to you sleeping.”

“Still not used to sleeping,” he yawned, finally allowing himself to leave his twilight state of post-sleep Rose-gazing, blinking the fatigue from his eyes. She stayed where she was, purposely holding delightfully close.

“We should get up,” she said with resignation, “We have stuff to do. I have to go back in to work. Give a report. Go in for medical. You have more stuff to go over with Pete. Dinner with the Family. Busy day again.”

“Better than the alternative I suppose.”

“The alternative might have been staying like this all day.”

“Oh,” his eyebrows popping up slight as the Doctor pondered quickly. He hadn’t ever truly thought of the possibility of enjoying a lazy moment as much as he already had, much less stretching it out to an entire day.

He quickly gripped her and pulled her body a bit closer. “Not better than the alternative, then.”


	2. Torchwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentoo's first visit to Torchwood

 With them standing some in the lift, her nerves were palpable. You could actually feel her jitters if you knew her. The subtle way Rose was carrying herself, while marred by her Vitex Heiress visage with pony-tailed hair and button-up shirt, was almost shaking. Her hand gripped the Doctor's incrementally tighter before she let go to hit the button for the top floor, winking at him as if to reassure him though painfully obvious she lacked the confidence herself.

“Thing to remember is that everything above floor five is _special_ offices,” Rose said, “Torchwood isn't very secret here, but it's still scrutinized harshly. Only about a dozen people are authorized to even look at tech, fewer to touch it. I technically don't have the authority.”

“Doesn't stop you,” he guessed.

“Wouldn't stop _you_ ,” she smiled, “Not that I help much. I'm mostly on the ground, meet people an' see things. Gets me in trouble more than I like. Definitely more than _they_ like. If imagine you're going to give them a migraine.” She grinned a to him, a full, tooth-laden grin despite her nervousness. “But you'll get access.”

She looked at the numbers above the doors as they approached their destination. Rose was hesitant let go of his hand as the lift stopped and the door dinged, but their hands were separated when the doors opened and she walked out with him following. Pete stood outside the hall against a desk with his arms open, the occupant of the desk he was leaning against blissfully gone. Rose walked right into Pete’s arms and gave him a hug, some of her nerves visibly leaving her as she let go. Pete out stretched his hand to shake the Doctor’s hand.

“Morning, Doctor. I figure she's shown you around a bit?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No,” he tugged his reddening ear a bit, “bit of a late morning I suppose.” Pete smirked and shook his head, likely over-assuming the events of the morning.

“I'm due at medical, then have to give a report. I can leave him with you for a bit, yeah?” Rose said quietly, unnecessarily straightening her tucked in blouse.

“Of course.” Pete nodded. Rose smiled to her father before looking back to the Doctor.

“I’ll be gone for two hours, three, max. Don't,” she hesitated, putting her hand on his arm gently almost pleading with him, “Don't wander off.” She smiled as she gently gripped and released him, heading back to the elevator. She looked back at them as the Doctor had watched her wait at the elevator, smile a bit toward him before turning her head forward and moving into the open lift.

“She’s so nervous because you’re going to talk about her, aren’t you?” came out of the Doctor’s mouth as soon as she disappeared, turning his head to look at Pete.

“She knew it was likely to come up.” Pete nodded once with a quick sigh. “She's the reason we've changed a lot of protocol. Some of which she’s hoping I’ll be able to help you avoid.”

“Bionix?” he shoved his hands into his pockets. Pete looked surprised at the Doctor’s knowing that name.

“Told you then?”

“A bit. Kids and misunderstandings, but it’s likely not that simple is it?” the Doctor asked. Pete nodded. “What happened?”

“Unnecessary casualties and a fad of xenophobia. She's not a fan of either.” Pete replied in a detail-less fashion that would make a time traveler proud.

“Nor me.” The Doctor said, scratching the back of his neck. Pete straightened and stood from his leaned position as he headed to the farthest desk and walking around to access it’s drawers. The Doctor followed leisurely, looking around the posh, open structure.

“Ident,” Pete said, reaching into a drawer and handing him a large, stiff envelope. As soon as the Doctor opened it and started going through the slips of paper or the small, plastic cards Pete started to spew information forth. “Licenses, Certificates, Education. I've set you up as a contract employee for Vitex to pad out your CV, so there’s a lanyard in there as well. You can spend as much or as little time in the building as you need, but you’d have to come in for the occasional meeting. The offices down stairs are mostly storage and a few labs, medical on floor 5. you’ll have access to those in a bit after you’ve cleared with a few of the higher ups in the departments. The Canary Wharf location has been turned into a museum and memorial, mostly due to the People’s liberation of it from the former Torchwood regime, they found it an excellent locale for those lost during the Lumic incident.” Pete picked up what appeared to be a stack of memos, looking through them almost absently before he looked up at a pensive looking Doctor. “Excited yet?”

“Don't mind having to choose a life mid-moment,” he shrugged and scratched his sideburn, “I’ve given it some thought over the years but she’s acting like she’s personally springing it on me randomly.”

“It wasn’t the easiest on her when she went through the transition,” Pete took in a deep breath, “and we weren’t as aware of what had to go into it. Probably trying to make it easier on you.”

“Probably. She always tries that with people. Easing difficult situations. But it’s not really worth it when it seems to hurt her more than it’s protecting me from fairly non-existent slings and arrows.”

“Have you tried telling her that?” Pete asked, crossing his arms.

 _‘…Does it need saying?'_ was the first thing that came to his mind. He huffed out a breath.

Bollocks.  
 


	3. The Labs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentoo wanders off.

So, he said he wouldn’t wander off, but this could easily be described more like 'exploring' than wandering, couldn’t it? Plus, there was this tantalizing tang of ionized air tinged with burnt wiring that drew him down a hall. White door, tiny window, small gray square beside a handle that would inevitably not moved until he scanned this little card that he conviently got from Pete in front of the little grey box...

Yeah. He was in.

The Doctor opened the door to what looked like a lab. Overhead lights, two rows of tables littered with papers or pieces of tech, or entire bits of tech before the human tendency for elegance took over. He shrugged at the empty room and slipped on his glasses, scanning his eyes through the stack of bluish papers to his left. They were obviously plans and designs for tech and objects of mostly harmless nature he decided before a man in a white lab coat rounded up behind him.

“Hey! What are you doing here!” The Doctor couldn’t decide whether the new man was more surprised at what he was doing or that he was simply there. The Doctor pointed to the last item he’d looked at in the plans.

“A breech detector powered by a neutron matrix? Oh, this is excellent.”

“Who are you.” The man almost demanded, though obviously flattered by the Doctor's words and maybe allergic to actually asking questions.

“Oh, sorry,” he stepped forward, extending a hand, “John Smith, new contacted agent.” A look of relief came on the other man’s face as he shook the outstretched hand and shook it. “Have you tried folding the flow over on itself? Might give you a bigger range as much as… 472%? Be able to do more with less.”

“Are you contracted to this department? I’m horrible at memos. I’m Malcom Taylor, senior developer.” A few men came in through the hall behind him, obviously where he had appeared from before. “I manage this department and it’s resources, which, if that was a quick spout off, I’m going to consider you one of.”

“Nah, I’m just …familiar… with the concept. Bit of an eidetic memory.” He turned to the next page of the stack of papers, his divided attention obviously heavily weighted. “This translates well to a wormhole detector!” He said in slightly surprised glee, he looked at the man “What is this department?”

“Terrestrial Based Security,” butted in one of the other men, “We’re in charge of the initial wave of alert should there be any time of alien incursion and try to prevent it before we pass it on to the defense logistics department or even the footies. We’re the first wave of defense before offense kicks in.” he smiled with pride.

“Seems a posh name for ‘burglar alarm.’” The Doctor said, his attention still on the plans. Rose might have called him Rude just then. Grosse's face grew stone and angry out of the corner of his eye.

“Right, Sorry,” said Taylor, the nicer man’s voice pulling the Doctor out of his binging session. “Introductions Smith, Grosse, and over there are Johns and Obanga.”

“Right, nice to meet ya.” The Doctor shook hands of the man near him and waved to the ones still at the table, who nodded in his direction while in obvious chemical-handling gear. Grumbling, the angry Grosse walked over to the nearest table.

“Don’t mind Grosse, he's working on a few things but he keeps getting blocked by the committee for ethics.”

“No,” corrected the still grumbling Grosse, “I keep getting blocked by know-it-all bint with a posh name who has no concept of what I’m trying to achieve. Have you heard that woman talk? Obviously not the sharpest pencil, if you get my meaning.”

The Doctor felt himself grow irrationally angry. Or maybe rationally. Either way there was an anger stirring and he wasn’t entirely sure it would stay tamped down, especially not if, as his suspicions were lead, that unhappy man was talking about Rose. His face was threatening to sneer. He huffed out an exhale, not wanting to let on his connection to a certain posh-named family and validate any potential misgivings apparently Grosse was already harboring.

“The idea can’t be that brilliant that you can’t seem to find an ethical way to have your intentions known. Good to meet ya, Grosse.” He managed to not say the same with a growl and simply walked to the other side of the large room, pretending to be distracted by something new… and then actually being distracted by the small pile of objects next to it. Small metal boxes with an almost plastic gear on the top.

“Sonic shielding,” said Taylor behind him. The Doctor picked up the palm-sized object and studied it. “We gave up on it, can’t get it quieter, only covers a small rooms. It’s good for bathrooms. We had a goal to make it for more secure board room communication. Small headache side effect, few broken ear drums, does the job aside from that.” The Doctor let out a huff of a laugh to Taylor’s increasing enjoyment. “Still, produced a few prototypes before the side effects we’re too much trouble for the majority of the people who intended to use them.”

“Oh, sounds brilliant. A bit 1970s spy shows on the telly but if it gets the job done, eh?” The Doctor looked at Taylor whose smile grew even wider when compared to 1970s spy TV. “Can I take some of these?” Taylor piled a few in his hands and almost shoved them at him.

“By all means. If you can improve on them, feel free!” Taylor smiled as the Doctor happily shoved the four small boxes in his pockets, the non-dimensionally transcendent pockets bulging at the size. He nodded and left the Doctor to his own curiosity.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a box, covered in toggles and a big, green button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've honestly said, "Get your shit together, Gebbems" dozens of times today.   
> Hope you're having a better day than I!


	4. Dear

Rose stood outside, leaning on a bench and looking toward the glass doors of the building she was just asked to leave as people filed passed her, obviously having been rushed out as well. The Doctor saw her face and smiled, sauntering up to her.

“Fancy meeting you, here. Come here often?” he casually sauntered toward her despite the hurrying around him.

“Oh, standing out here for my health, you know.” She looked around and correctly deduced from the lack of Pete, “Wandered off?” She brushed her hair over her ear, small cheeky smile on her face as she raised an eyebrow.

“Well, not on purpose. And I wandered back all on my own.” He said with a trace of pride. She shook her head at him amused. She went up beside him, gripping her place at his arm as they walked back toward the CARDIS.

“Have a nice tour?”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded, his pace sedate, “Official papers, la-dee-da. Part time employment at my leisure. Only mildly insufferable people.”

“Ah, the labs,” Rose said, sounding only slightly upset, “They’re fond of themselves.”

“But I got a nifty parting gift.” He reached into his pocket and held out of the little boxes for her to examine.

“Oh, exciting.” She said, not all that excited but amused none-the-less, pausing to look more thoroughly at it. It was just a box, at least on the outside. She guessed the inside held something a bit more spectacular for him to have taken such interest in it. “What’s this do, then?” She handed it back and he put it directly back into his pocket, continuing their walk as he spotted the car.

“Just a thing to cancel out sounds. Like a cone of silence that’s very loud. I have four.” He smiled wide, making her shake her head.

“For the sonic?”

“How'd you know?”

“Sounds, tech. Plus, 's you. Not hard to figure out.”

“I must be getting old. Are there kids nearby? I feel the need to curse their generation and call their music noise.” The Doctor jokingly looked around before opening his door to get in, Rose smiled and did the same.

“Nah, I mean, yeah, you’re old, but ‘s not it,” she sat and buckled as he did, sitting for a second before doing anything else.

“What is it, then?” He turned to her. She turned to him at the question and looked at him as if it were obvious.

“More fun. More options. You need your options, I think.”

“Who doesn't like options?”

“Incredibly boring people." she smiled as she turned back and started the car. "You, Dear, are not boring.”

“Dear?” He seemed shocked but happy of the moniker.

“Habit.” She sheepishly waved it off, as if trying to gently erase the word from the air. “Honey, dear, lad… Easier to deal with than remembering names.”

“I’ll take it.” He said almost happily despite the explanation, “Dear. Dearest? Like the animal, deer. Dear heart would just be deer hart so deer-deer.” He thought out loud, a smile growing on his face, “Deer. Leapy, majestic.”

“...Gangly, skittish…” she interrupted with more applicable, almost sung adjectives. He gave her a stern face and continued.

“Hairy, Noble, Brown things who run." the Doctor smiled in his feeling of triumph. "I’ll take Dear.”

“Whatever you say, Dear.” 


	5. Home

It was her phrasing that did it. He was sure. The House. Mickey's side. Over there. Anything to avoid the word that he’d come to know both of them use to describe the TARDIS. Him more in volume alone, but over the 700-odd days that they shared the space her frequency of using that word to describe the TARDIS had matched his own.

And now, probably because of that specific reason, though she obviously felt the word appropriate to describe it, she wasn’t using it to describe the place she lived. Or the place he lived. The place, no matter the wall there, that _they_ lived.

She needed to say home.

“I told you I’ve done this before, lived a life. I should probably tell you. Twice, really, both are only half applicable. Once, long, long time ago, I was exiled.”

“Like from Victorian England?”

“Yes, but no. From Gallifrey. Long story involving the majority of my species being grumpy, stodgy, myopic, fu—”

“-- _fffun_ people.” She finished for him with a slight smile.

“Yes. ‘ _Fun_.’ And there was a misunderstanding on top of it,” she passed her arm around his to try and dissolve some of the bitterness in his voice, “I was sent to Earth. I had to cobble together a life, friends… okay, so back then I wasn’t too far from a stodgy _fun_ person myself, and they were more considered colleagues than friends, but looking back they were definitely friends. I had to live the day-to-day. I had a job. I was still me, stuck with a TARDIS but an unworking one. I did hate it a bit. I won’t lie. Spent more time than I’d like trying to bypass a lock my own people put on that magnificent time ship to limit me. But point is that I still did it. I found out through years what I liked and disliked and could handle. I like options and the TARDIS working tends to aid in that, and as you said, I like options. While I’m a different man than I was then—”

“…You’re also the same man.” Rose nodded along, completing his thought. 

“Minus the stodgy.” He pulled a smile to try and gain hers. “Either way, no TARDIS, but I had a job, friends, car—"

“Car?” Rose broke in, interrupting his self-propelled story-time. “You mean the yellow one? Bessie?”

He blinked. “How did you know?” He felt a weird de-ja-vu, and a look crossed his face that expressed his doubts that he keep asking her that again. 

“She had a room in the TARDIS, like she was in storage. Found it once. She sentient, too?”

“No, no… just a very suped-up, yellow car that made me a bit proud. Remote control, minimum inertia hyperdrive, force field security… it was a sexy piece of work. Some things become a piece of you, some things become piece of home in a world that wasn’t quite home yet.” He fawned over the memory, smile growing as he spoke about it.

“Enough for you to have kept it?”

“It didn’t wander off, unlike my _other_ piece of home.” She got the parallel and put her face in her hands as she let out a huff of laughter. He smiled knowing that her reaction meant her getting his meaning.

She shook a finger at him in jest. “You are not installing a remote on me.”

“Like you’d listen to it anyway.” He joked. “Point is, Rose Tyler, I don’t need protecting. You’ve made it easy just by being here, you don’t need to protect me from words. I know what I’m missing. I also know,” he took her chin and turned her head so he could look directly into her eyes, “What I have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, most days: Hit a Thousand word, Gebbems.  
> Also me: Nope.


	6. Tylers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving for Family Dinner at the Tyler's

Jackie Tyler had apparently put her mark on the house; pastels, flower patterns, and cushy draping items all over the place, like an old lady had stuck in and decorated the large, posh mansion. The curtains were sheers and pastels, the old ones' opulent but heavy presence replaced by ones that were more cheery and bright. Walls and bookshelves were now lined with pictures and knickknacks where there weren’t before. The dining table, while obviously left over from the old Jackie, now had a pastel table runner down it’s center. The couches and tables didn’t look nicer but a bit brighter. The whole place, or as much as he had comparison for, felt more lived in and not simply an elaborate stage for an up-scale party. She’d even painted the walls. An accent wall, well, maybe it was there before, can’t say much time was devoted to room-gazing last time.

“Takin’ in the spectacle?” Rose broke in to his thoughts. “Bit different than it was before, right? Suppose it’s a but more to take in when not working from the kitchens,” she grinned. She was standing right next to him, side of her arm touching his.

“Its nice.” He said a little absently, “bit… big. But nice.”

“Yeah. Ginormous. Still, ‘nuff room for friends and family an' the occasional Vitex shin-dig. We have a few a year, ya know, Mum loves a party.” He kept looking around at the expansive sitting room before she managed to grab his attention again by sliding her arm into his. “Come on, you know how she gets when we’re four minutes late.” She tugged him gently as she moved before his feet got the signal.

They walked in further to the dining room. Jackie was strapping what seemed like a little ball of energy in boy-form into a seat.

“There you are. Have a look-see at the house before supper did ya?” she said when she saw them. Pete was already seated at the head of the fairly large table as Jackie pulled out the chair between him and Tony. Rose slipped her arm out of the Doctor’s and greeted her baby brother with a hug.

“Changed a bit since I last was here. Although I haven’t gotten a good look at the kitchens this time 'round.” He smiled.

“S a bit different. More tea. Keep flowers in there now 'cause they’re nice.” She shook out a cloth napkin and put it on her lap, “Dunno why you never thought of actually keepin' flowers in there before, Pete, they bring in a bit of hope into the big thing. Not that I’m complainin’, mind. Remember our old flat, Doctor? Barely a step from the kitchen to the sofa. ‘Better for watchin' a match' Mick’s used ta say.”

“That explains the big telly.” Thought the Doctor out loud. Jackie looked amused.

“He came to these dinners all the time. Even showed up when someone was busy.” Said Jackie, her eyes pointedly looking at her daughter.

Rose rolled her eyes, “Oi, Savin' the world, bit busy, yeah?” Jackie rolled her eyes in clearly the same fashion as her daughter.

“He saved the world, too, an’ still made it here for dinner…” Jackie started nattering on as the Doctor pulled out the chair beside Pete for Rose to sit in, sliding her back in as she took it and sitting next to her.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” broke in Pete's voice, likely distracting the rant the Jackie was amped up to continue.

“I think Cook's doing a ham.” Jackie replied seamlessly. A woman in a familiar uniform brought in a few plates and glasses.

“Oh, the cook is doing the ham?” the Doctor said quietly to Rose while the food was set on the table. Rose laughed lightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier that she’s taken to this life like a duck to water.”

“Don’t get too sure, she still likes to cook every once and a while.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like it cuts off a bit soon, but both the story and I needed a break.


	7. Stars

The Doctor had seemed to walk around the whole house, Rose not found. She must have gone to hers to change or do some work, but it wasn’t really indicated by the near inseparability that she’d presented the last few days. She had asked for personal time from her father at dinner. Her eyes had even going a little toward himself when she asked it. Pete, father and big boss of Torchwood, granted it without another thought.

Maybe that meant something. No, that definitely meant something.

Maybe she's in the loo.

No. Both of them were empty. He went into the back bedroom.

Ah.

The ladder was down.

He ascended the ladder, finding her sitting on one of the cushions of the iron bench, staring up at room staring up at stars. The creaking from his steps on the ladder were making it easy to be known.

“There you are.”

“Need something?” she asked with a small smile, turning her head to face near him without having to move her body.

“No. Just curious where you were. No wandering off, remember?” he got off the ladder and stepped into the room towards the bench, turning to face the stars as she had.

“’s relaxing.” She shrugged, returning to star-gazing. The light from the stars glinting off the surfaces of her eyes, pointing out their colors and hues even more than the vivid memories of his previous studies of them had locked down in his memory. 

“Should open the doors.” The Doctor looked around, seeing that there was, in fact, a door to the bit of unused roof. “Get a nice breeze. Love a breeze.” He sat with a plop beside her on the next cushion of the large two-seater.

“No bugs. Don’t love summer bugs.” She smirked, glancing quickly from the stars to him and back.

“We'll put screens on the doors, then. Breeze and no bugs.” He concluded, putting an arm around her shoulders while she relaxed a little into him but clearly still distracted by the sky. Her eyes were glassy and wet, and while he knew that could be from just keeping her eyes open for the extended period of time she seemed prone to at the moment, he guessed it was better to assume neither. “Good place to see the stars.”

“’S not seeing them the way you used to.” She stated a bit regretfully, her face as calm as it ever had been, almost far off as one of those stars.

 Sadness, for him, he realized, was overwhelming her as she tried to be stoic. 

“Hmm, no, but I’ve never seen this.” Rose's head turned and eyebrow raised at his statement, ready to argue the fact but sure she was missing his meaning. “What we’re seeing now is different times of all these stars.” He took his arm from her shoulder and animatedly empathized his words, “So now for here is 2000 years before the same time on that star or 67million years before the equivalent of now on that star,”he nodded in what looked like vague directions but she knew he was talking about a specific one. “Chances are, New, New Earth is…. Over,” he scanned space before pointing up, “There… by that tiny star, which is it’s sun, the light reaching us is still 6 billion years away from ... If this planet in this universe chooses to do that, which I don’t doubt because humans certainly are human-y regardless of universe, it seems. So, technically, I am time travelling, seeing a planet from far away, true, but I’ve never seen it at this time. And seeing this many planets in such a short period of time at different times in their evolutions is… pretty beautiful.”

“Hard way of saying ‘nice stars.’” She bumped him slightly, looking his face over. “Overanalyzing, aren't you?”

“Yes, but my point still stands. Being here with you is something I haven't done.”

“You’re going to get bored.” She amusedly warned.

“Undoubtedly,” he quickly agreed, taking a page from her book and bumping her with his side. “Not of you, though.”

“That's optimistic,” she smiled a cheeky smile.

He smiled and shook his head once, “Nope.” He over enunciated like last letter as he always had with a big smile on his face. She rested her head against his shoulder as he curled his arm back around her shoulder.

This _was_ a good place to look at stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more, then on to the next day.


	8. Night

The Doctor looked up through the hole in the ceiling while still holding on to the of the wooden ladder. He had walked down the ladder to leave her to her thoughts, which seemed to be what she was intent on doing regardless of his presence, but might go easier if that weren’t a consideration. He meandered through the house and down the stairs, the house he was getting used to. Where things were, how things were. He found himself in the kitchen, where he was grateful a bunch of bananas waited patiently for his consumption, which, as the bananas would know, was eagerly forthcoming. Especially after today.

“I’ve been thinking.” A voice invaded sometime during his second banana. He turned to a clear faced, even relaxed Rose that had been absent from existence the last few days. “That’s what I’ve been doing. For days. Thinking.” Rose stepped closer to him slowly, thinking as she spoke, “An’ I’ve made a mess doing it, but I think I’ve figured something out. For the last few days, more or less … I’ve been the git. So let’s just… be us, yeah?” He squinted at her, swallowing the small bit of banana still in his mouth. She was right up to him now, taking the bit of banana still left gently from his hand. “A lot of stuff has happened, an’ I’m pretty sure we’re both complete nutters. But all that stuff is just… stuff, right?”

“Descriptive,” he nodded his head to the left before straightening his neck again as he rubbed the back of it awkwardly, “but I’m pretty sure I get your meaning, yes.”

“Then, let’s go back.” She shook her hair and swiped her hands through the air as if definitively striking the past from all existence, “Not all of it, not all the time, but back.” Rose brushed a clump of hair behind her ear, “You’re you, I’m me, and we’re together, right?”

His response was immediate, “Right.”

So was her response as she nodded, “Good.”

She quickly moved to him, kissing him like she had on that beach. She pulled his lapels toward her, putting her lips against his and kissing him in an all encompassing way. The rest of the world faded away, the past few days with it. Her face crushed against his, her hand going to the back of his head as his hands around her waist pulled her body close to wrap her tighter in his embrace. There was a hunger and ferocity in it that he matched as her her last bit of reticence fell away and strengthened the emotions being poured into it. Slowly, and only when the lack of air finally irritated both of them did they close off the kiss. 

They stood there in silence for a second, his forehead against hers as both their eyes slowly opened from their instinctive closing.

“Um. Well.” He stuttered happily, smiling into her eyes as she pulled away, “Glad that's sorted.”

“Maybe,” Rose smiled, taking his hand as she always had, “Maybe it needs more sorting.” She smiled wider, her tongue darting to touch the top row of her teeth. His eyebrows raised and he felt a ridiculous smile assert itself into his face as she sauntered backward down hall, pulling him gently as she lead him into the still dark sitting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's done being stupid. Hooray!
> 
> Next few Days are woefully short but there are big ones ahead, too.


End file.
